


Can't Count on Anything

by mommymuffin



Series: Breathe Me [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Bond, Explanations, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski Feels, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:18:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mommymuffin/pseuds/mommymuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When all of this started, it was about Scott."</p><p>"So when did it become about you?" John asks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going the Way You Planned

**Author's Note:**

> All rightie, folks! Today (it's still May 14th where I am) is my birthday! And one of my best friends told me I should give y'all a treat since I got so many today! So I am!
> 
> Enjoy two chapters in one post!
> 
> I had a great birthday and it's on awesome days like today that make me appreciate having you wonderful readers around to pass my happiness on to! Love y'all!

After much explanation is given (with a demonstration from Derek) and many stories are told (while glossing over some of the more deadly details) and Stiles is in the biggest trouble of his life (including the restraining order), the Sheriff sits there with his head in his hands and a strained expression on his face.

"I knew there had to be something else going on...but I didn't think it was _this_."

Stiles resists the urge to say _No one expects werewolves._

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"Don't," the Sheriff says, shaking his head. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault werewolves are real or that they live here or that people _hunt_ them."

"Then...I'm sorry for lying to you."

The Sheriff looks up at him then, and after a moment says, "That, you can apologize for. You should have told me, kid."

Stiles shakes his head. "I couldn't put you in danger."

"Putting yourself in danger instead is not the answer," John says sharply. Even though he knows that, to Stiles, it is. "God, kid…"

"Sheriff," Derek says before Stiles can try to apologize again. "With all due respect it was not Stiles' secret to tell."

"No," the Sheriff says shrewdly. "It was yours, wasn't it?"

"And Scott's," Stiles says stubbornly. "When all of this started, it was about Scott."

"So when did it become about you?" John asks.

Stiles' face falls. "It...isn't."

"Really? Because it kind of seems like it is. Was that body on the porch for Scott?"

"...No…"

"No is right. It was for you and Derek. And...god. This...this _wolf_ that you have." The Sheriff pauses. "Let me see it."

Stiles exchanges a look with Derek. He's scared out of his mind. He doesn't want his father to see this. Never wanted his father to see _any_ of this.  Derek can see the hurricane of thoughts wreaking havoc on him: _He'll hate me. He'll think I'm a freak. He'll  leave me, he'll hate me, he'll leave me, he'll hate me, he'll—_

Derek places a hand on Stiles' arm. Stiles jerks and meets Derek's steady gaze.

"No, he won't," the werewolf says.

Stiles lets out a breath and relaxes. He nods and slips out his knife.

"Don't freak out."

Cor is standing with them a few beats later, his ruby gaze landing on the Sheriff, whose eyes are wide enough to serve dinner on. The wolf looks back to Stiles for an explanation about who this strange man is. Stiles kneels beside him and loops an arm over his shoulders.

"Cor, this is Dad. He's the best dad ever and we protect him always, okay?"

Cor woofs, looking back to John and wagging his tail.

"It talks," the Sheriff says, sounding bewildered.

Derek smirks privately at the memory of his son having the same reaction.

"Uh. Yeah. He does that. Not really sure how, but...um. Anyways. Dad, this is Cor," Stiles says carefully. He waits with baited breath for his father's reaction.

The Sheriff takes another few moments to study the strange creature. Then he decisively leans forward and offers a hand to Cor, palm down.

Cor happily nuzzles at the hand and bumps at it until John takes the hint and starts petting him.

The Sheriff's face screws up. "It feels…"

"Kind of like warm clay. I know," Stiles says. "And it's "he"."

"Oh, I'm sorry. He." John pauses. "How do you know?"

"We don't," Stiles states. Cor's underbelly is for the most part porous. There's really no way of knowing. "He just felt like a boy to me."

The Sheriff huffs a laugh at that. "Well, he seems like a pretty good companion."

"The best," Stiles says. They left out most of the killing bits of the story they told the Sheriff and just downplayed it to "protected." As far as the Sheriff knows, Chris dealt with the witch and the hunters.

"He's definitely the _strangest_ thing I've ever seen. And I mean ever. And I'm a cop, I've seen some things. Not to mention a _werewolf_ just recently...but...I'm glad you have someone else looking out for you."

Stiles nods and aims a smile at Derek. "Couldn't ask for anyone better."

"So do you have to...to be bleeding for him to come out?" the Sheriff asks, ever the investigator/worried father.

"Yeah," Stiles says. He holds up his hand to show his dad. "But I don't bleed while he's out. It...seals or something, I don't know."

The Sheriff looks up at the cut, clearly visible on Stiles' hand. Stiles is right though, it isn't bleeding.

"It heals completely when I recall him."

"Really?" John says, sounding impressed.

"Yeah. Magic stuff. It just does it on its own without me having to tell it. Which is good, because I probably wouldn't have known I could do that in the first place."

"Can you heal yourself when you've been injured otherwise?"

Stiles pauses. "I'm not sure. I haven't had to try."

The Sheriff nods, obviously pleased by the news that Stiles has stayed relatively unharmed recently. Relatively.

"So what happens if he can't...complete himself? If Derek isn't there?"

Stiles shrugs. "When the hunters had me, he looked for Derek. I don't think he can take form without Derek's blood in the mix, making him whole. He can still cut people the hell up though, even when he's just a ribbon of blood flying around the room like a bat out of hell."

The Sheriff pauses at that mental image, but then goes on to ask. "So he wouldn't protect you if Derek wasn't there to add his blood? He would just look for Derek."

"I think yeah," Stiles says. "I mean he's undyingly loyal and all, but without Derek to balance him out, he's also completely crazy. I love him to death though," he adds in a sweet voice.

This does not please the Sheriff. "Yeah. That's what worries me."

Stiles hastily adds, "But hey, I could call Derek's blood even from a distance, so as long as Derek lets it out, we are totally good, no out-of-control familiar murdering his master here, no siree."

The Sheriff looks at him flatly. Stiles tries to muster a worthy smile of assurance, but it comes out more of a grimace.

Derek rolls his eyes behind him and says, "I'm not going anywhere, Sheriff."

Eyeing him shrewdly, the Sheriff says, "Yes, I don't doubt that."

His attention turns back to Cor and he strokes the wolf's head idly as he says, "So this...bond. It's a result of your feelings for each other and Derek's being a werewolf and Stiles' being magic?"

Stiles nods.

"Are you sure…" the Sheriff starts and stops. He seems unsure as to how to phrase his question. Finally, he just flat out asks, "Are you sure it's really _your_ choice? This relationship? Are you sure the feelings aren't some sort of side-effect from this supernatural bond or, or a Stockholm syndrome type thing?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Stiles says unhesitatingly. The thought had crossed his mind before, but he'd thought it through and came to this conclusion. "My magic...while I don't have great control of it yet and it sort of just does what it wants sometimes, it still...it still depends on _me_. On _my_ belief. It wouldn't have reached out for Derek in the first place if I hadn't wanted it to. If I hadn't been subconsciously doing the same thing myself. I'm sort of lucky it made that choice for me actually or Cor may well have ripped me to shreds by now." Stiles shrugs. "But yeah. I was already well on the path to...to Derek, when Cor manifested for the first time. He just made me take a leap instead of a step."

The Sheriff's face is in his hands again.

"Jesus Christ, Stiles," he mutters. "You don't do anything in half measures, do you?"

"Sor _—_ "

"Stiles," John says strictly. "Don't you ever apologize for who you are, or what you are. I am not mad at you. I am not upset with you. I am not going to think any differently of you. I just wish… I just wish I had had a little bit of a warning before all of this just got dumped on me all at once. It is a _lot_ to process."

Stiles asks, "You're really not mad at me?"

Sheriff Stilinski is suddenly, jarringly, _painfully_ taken back to the first time Stiles had broken something on accident after his mother died. John had been furious, raging and throwing the type of fit that grown adults should be above. Stiles had stoically not cried, and if John thinks about it that was the beginning of Stiles learning not to cry in front of people, to hold the tears in, to stay strong when no one else could. _When John couldn't_. When he'd rounded on his son demanding some arbitrary thing like "what were you thinking?" and really seen the look on his son's face, his anger had cracked away into heartbreak. He'd dropped to his knees and wrapped Stiles up in a bone-crushing hug and said he was so, so sorry and told him he wasn't mad at him and insisted it wasn't his fault over and over and over again. When he finally pulled away, Stiles had looked up at him and shakily asked the very same question he had just now asked John in the present.

Stiles had asked him why he wasn't mad at him then, too, when he'd been fired just a month ago, John recalls. He realizes far, far too late that the anger that he had shown his son over a broken picture frame, that the anger he had shown him over all that time until he got sober again, had hurt his son in such a way that he had felt it necessary to build an armor specifically to protect against it. The words "are you mad?" and all their variations have been said far too many times throughout Stiles' short life.

Because more than anything Stiles is afraid of losing his loved ones and not just to death, but to hurt feelings and things that can't be forgiven, too.

John feels a wetness welling up at the brims of his eyes and covers it with a seemingly weary rub of his hand over his face, blending right in to the rest of them.

He looks at his son.

"No, Stiles," he says gently. "I'm not mad at you. Not for this. Not for anything. You're my son and I love you and nothing you have ever done or ever will do can change that. You're magic and you're supernaturally bonded to a werewolf and you made a creature out of your own blood and _you're my_ _son_. I can't change any of that and I wouldn't try to, or even want to. There's nothing I can do to stop your involvement in all of this. It's too much a part of who you are now. And if I'm being honest, I'm really proud of you for handling all of this so well. This isn't something a sixteen year-old should be having to deal with, but you have and you've come out on top. You come to me though if you ever need my help. I know you want to keep me out of it, but I want to know what's going on and I want to know that you will _come to me for help_ if you need it. Can you promise me that?"

Stiles nods, looking like porcelain and glass and a thousand other breakable things. "I promise."

"Good. Derek, you make sure he keeps that promise."

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Sheriff Stilinski says with a note of finality. "Now come here."

He opens his arms and Stiles burrows into them with all the love a child could ever muster for their parent, and then some, because that's just how Stiles is. He can always go a step further.

"Love you, Dad," Stiles mumbles into his shoulder.

"I love you, too, son. Don't ever change."

Stiles nods and pulls away after a while. He's not crying, but it's a near thing. He really couldn't ask for a better father.

"Get some rest, Dad. You've already been up too long."

"Yeah, well, it was important," the Sheriff asserts. He smiles at his son, lovingly smooths down the hair that isn't long enough to smooth down. "Better get back to your codependent werewolf and undyingly loyal familiar"

He says it jokingly and fondly and Stiles smiles back. He glances over his shoulder to notice that Derek must have left them alone, taking Cor with him. Giant, adorable dork.

"Guess so, huh? Can't leave him alone too long. He might start chewing on the furniture.

"Cor chews on the furniture?"

"No, no, I meant Derek."

His father chuckles. "You going to pay for that one?"

"Potentially. Haven't told a dog joke in a while. We'll see."

"Good luck with that."

Stiles' smile dims as he hesitantly asks, "So...you're really okay with all of this?"

The Sheriff gives him a long look. "No. I'm not. I'm worried," he says. "You're constantly running head first into danger. You've been kidnapped multiple times. You've been beaten. You're dating a werewolf. You have a creature that could turn on you at any minute at your beck and call. You're not just a normal kid."

Stiles bites down hard on his bottom lip.

"But you never have been," John admits. "I've known that since your first day at school when you walked out of the classroom and started telling me and your mother everything you learned about slugs that day. Even though that was not in the curriculum. You're kind of crazy, kid. But you're my kid. And you're growing up. Hell, you already have. All I can do is support you. As much as it pains me to take a back seat in all this...this is your show, Stiles. You need to be the one to run it."

"You sure you can do that, Dad? Take a back seat?"

"It's a time that comes in every parent's life. It just came a little earlier for me. I thought I'd have more time," the Sheriff says sadly.

"I'm still your son."

"I know. But you're your own man now. I'd be a bad parent if I got in the way of that."

"That sounds horribly cliche, Dad."

The Sheriff shrugs. "Doesn't mean it's not true. I'm proud of you, kid."

"Thanks, Dad. That means a lot," Stiles tells him earnestly. "Sleep well."

"I'll try," the Sheriff acquiesces and waves him off to head wearily up the stairs. Stiles watches him go, then goes to the living room in search of Derek.

The werewolf is sitting on the couch, playing tug o' war with Cor, using a sock whose origins Stiles is unsure of. He glances at Stiles when he enters and waits.

Stiles grins sheepishly. "So, am I going to pay for that one?"

"Potentially."

Stiles laughs. "You could always give me a freebie, you know."

"We'll see," Derek says with a smirk. The look in his eyes is soft though and Stiles knows he's going to let it slide. They watch Cor struggle with the sock Derek won't release for a few quiet minutes.

"Well…" Stiles says eventually.

"Well," Derek agrees.

"That went pretty well all things considered."

Derek nods.

"Guess we should...start looking for Gerard, huh?"

Every line of Stiles' body screams how tired the teen is. As if finding out Gerard was alive wasn't enough of a bomb dropped on him, he just had to go through "the supernatural talk" with his dad that ended in a declaration that both shook the boy and relieved him. And all that was after the "older boyfriend" talk. He's emotionally drained, as well as physically, and it shows.

"Or...we could just stay on the couch all day and start tomorrow," Derek suggests.

Stiles eyes him suspiciously for a second. "We could."

Derek shrugs. "He'll still be evil tomorrow."

Stiles scoffs at that. "Well, _that's_ true."

The teen considers everything for a moment. Getting started on uncovering Gerard's misdeeds would probably be the smart thing to do. But Stiles thinks about what he'd just found out about Derek and Kate's relationship, about how Derek had reacted to him knowing. He thinks about Derek's admittance to being suicidal and thinks...maybe they have some things to talk about first. Besides, when do they ever do the smart thing?

"All right. Couch it is," Stiles says. "The nightmare that is our lives can resume tomorrow."

Derek allows Cor to take the sock from him and move to the middle of the floor to maul it. He had to if he wanted to open up his arms to accept Stiles onto the couch and curl up around him protectively as they settle. Which he did.

Stiles starts stroking his hair and after a few minutes, says, "I'm sorry she broke your heart."

Derek's grip on him tightens and the werewolf can only bury his face in Stiles' neck in response.

Stiles keeps talking, keeps stroking his hair. "I'm sorry you were betrayed so badly by someone you...you loved. I'm sorry that it got bad enough that you didn't want to live anymore. But I'm here now. And _anything_ and _everything_ that tries to hurt you from now on _—_ including yourself _—_ is going to have to go through me. And I'll be honest: I'd like to see them try."

Derek doesn't respond at first, just keeps breathing into Stiles' collarbone and holding onto him like a lifeline. Stiles just keeps petting his dark hair.

When the reply comes, it's soft and quiet, but it's meaningful, too, and Stiles couldn't ask for more.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Stiles says and lays his head on top of Derek's.


	2. Except Bad Luck

It's a mad scramble for information on Gerard after that. Chris refuses to tell them where he is. With how prone to claws Derek has been lately Stiles can't really blame him. He's not happy about it though.

They use other means and go other routes. With the Sheriff in the know bank records and the like are pretty easily acquired. They still don't have the name of the facility, so it must be paid for via Chris's accounts. His accounts are not hard to get either, even when his dad denies them access.

Danny is enlisted and he lets it be expressly known how not okay he is with hacking into someone's bank account. But he seems pretty satisfied to do it, when Stiles offers to share the details of his relationship with Derek.

They gather what they can and it's not much. For all appearances Gerard really is spending his days confined to a wheelchair at a home for the elderly. If he sent the hunters, he's not funding them. Chris's bank account is also quite clean and Stiles is actually pretty pleased about that. It'd be nice to be able to trust the guy. They do however find the name of a center for geriatric care in his records.

Stiles brings up the fact that Peter had had a creepy nurse to help him murder people one evening.

They go to the long-term care facility.

It seems like a legitimate business. No one outright screams "serial killer accomplice" to them, but Derek gets a good sniff around the place and Stiles pretends to be a grandson and speaks directly to Gerard's regular nurse about "Grandpa's" conditions. Then she leads him right to Gerard's room.

Derek isn't going to like this, but Stiles pushes open the door and goes inside anyway.

Gerard really is sitting in a wheelchair, by the window at the moment, and he turns his head at the sound of the door. His eyes light on Stiles and immediately fill with a dark glee that Stiles remembers all too well.

"Well…" he says waiting until the nurse has shut the door behind her. "If it isn't the little human sidekick."

Stiles' mouth curls up in a very cruel way and he says, "Haven't you heard? I'm not much of a sidekick anymore. Or human."

"Yes, I had heard about your familiar from my son. He had a lot of questions about the dangers of such a creature."

That doesn't surprise Stiles.

"Did you have a lot of answers?"

Gerard laughs a little, which turns into a cough. Black goo escapes from his mouth and he catches it in a tissue. It's a clear indicator of his body destroying itself. Stiles doesn't feel sorry for him.

Gerard takes a deep breath and with all his familiar malice says, "Oh, yes. I know quite a bit about witches and their self-made _protectors_." The word is spat like a bad taste in his mouth. "I know it usually doesn't end well for the witch."

"So I've heard. But I think I'll be all right. My werewolf keeps us in line."

Gerard's expression hardens in such a way that Stiles knows he's succeeded in poking at one of the old man's sore spots. "Yes," he says. "Derek Hale. How is the last remaining member of the Hale family?" The bastard pokes right back.

Stiles coolly says, "What makes you think he's the last remaining member?"

Something flickers across Gerard's face and Stiles knows he has him there. Gerard doesn't know about Peter.

Stiles smirks and says, "Not so well-informed after all, are you?"

Gerard is not deterred by Stiles' confidence. He smirks right back and says, "Neither are you. Isn't that why you're here? You think I sent the hunters who tried to kill you?"

"Did you?"

Gerard smiles. "No."

Stiles can't tell if he's lying, but he seems far too pleased about his asserted lack of involvement.

He's hiding something.

"Then I guess I'm done here," Stiles says and turns to leave.

"Oh, Stiles. Would you wait one moment please?" Gerard calls sweetly.

Stiles stops, glances over his shoulder. He's listening.

"Tell Scott I said hello, would you?"

Stiles has been hanging around Derek and Cor too much. His lip curls like a wolf's and he almost feels that he could growl. "Stay away from Scott," he snaps and storms out of the room.

Stiles is furious. Even with their current lackluster friendship, Scott is still his best friend. He's still _his._ How dare Gerard make a threat toward Scott. Because that's what it was: a threat. Gerard was letting Stiles know that he hadn't forgotten that his predicament was a direct result of Scott McCall's actions.

When he gets to the Jeep, Derek is there leaning against the side. He's furious, too.

"We agreed you wouldn't speak to him."

"I know. I _know_." Stiles is wired, set to blow.

Derek sighs through his nose. It's obvious Stiles has some unresolved issues with Gerard and what the old man did to him. Stiles is strong in more ways than Derek can imagine. But he's not invulnerable. Derek knows it's not even about the fact that Gerard beat him. Stiles probably couldn't care less about that. It's about the way he tried to use him to hurt Scott. Gerard tried to make Stiles into a _weak point_ for one of Stiles' loved ones. And that's the ultimate torment for Stiles.

Derek steps into his space, frames Stiles with his body, shelters him without even touching him.

"Hey," he says softly.

"What?" Stiles snaps.

"He can only use you, if you let him."

It's a lesson Derek knows all too well. Stiles looks into his face, into the _push_ for understanding he's sending Stiles' way. His anger fizzles out like a dampened fuse.

"Yeah. You're right."

Derek nods. "Don't do that again."

"Yeah, yeah."

"No, no. You're not allowed to tell me to follow the rules and then not follow them yourself."

"Yeah, _yeah_ ," Stiles says, grinning at Derek.

"No, _no_ ," Derek insists, a smile tugging at the corners of his own lips.

Stiles peers at Derek for a moment and then goes, "Sorry," face sobering a little.

"Good," Derek says and tilts his head to seal their mouths together.

 

Allison leans up beside Stiles' locker after school the next day.

"Can I help you?" Stiles asks.

Allison smiles at him in that stunning sort of way that usually has any boy tripping over themselves. Too bad Stiles is immune. For a number of reasons.

"Why did you go talk to Gerard yesterday?"

Stiles stops in the middle of putting a book in his backpack. "How long have you known he's alive?"

"Dad told me right before he told you."

"Huh." Stiles can believe that. Chris was probably hoping no one would ever need to know.

"So why did you talk to him?"

"Give you one wild guess."

"You think he left that body on the porch of the Hale house."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Stiles, really? Did you see him yesterday? He's in a wheelchair and sick and _dying_. How could he have possibly done something like that?"

"He was two of those things the last time he very nearly killed everyone. And as I recall, the man has a penchant for using people."

Allison recognizes that for the barbed jab that it is. She frowns fiercely at him. "I'm just saying," she says forcedly calm, "that this is _probably_ a werewolf thing. Have you thought it could be Peter?"

Stiles squints at her, sarcastically says, "No, Allison. We're complete idiots and the murdering psychopath who came back from the dead is _not_ the first person we thought of."

Allison rolls her eyes, holding back a huff. "I was just checking. Look, all I'm saying is...we don't want you to be...biased. Because of the situation."

Stiles observes her calmly for  a minute. He notices Scott and Isaac waiting about ten yards down the hall. Listening no doubt.

He begins slowly. "You mean you don't want me to worry more about the _man_ who kidnapped me and used me more than I'm worrying about the _werewolf_ who kidnapped and used me. Because I'm sleeping with the werewolf's nephew. Is that it? Really? When you're standing here defending your monstrosity of a grandfather, while trying to throw the nearest convenient werewolf under the bus instead? You want to talk about bias, Allison, you should look in the mirror."

"Stiles," Allison pleads. "I'm not defending him, I'm just _—_ I'm just worried about you. You're trying to do all of this alone, when _we're_ here and we could _—_ "

"I'm not alone," Stiles snaps. He speaks tersely. "I have Derek and Cor. And they do a fine job of protecting me, so _don't_ worry."

Allison's expression twists into something hateful and she says, "You shouldn't trust Derek, Stiles."

"What, don't trust a Hale? Careful, Allison. Your Argent is showing."

 _That_ really ruffles her. "That's not fair, Stiles," she says shakily. "H-he killed my _—_ "

"Mother? No, he didn't," Stiles says. "He bit her and your psychotic family killed her with their skewed sense of morals. And by the way did anyone ever tell you _why_ he bit your mom?"

Scott starts frantically shaking his head behind her.

"No," Allison says slowly.

"Why don't you ask Scott," Stiles says, shooting his best friend a look that means he's done with this game.

Allison grows confused and glances back at Scott and Isaac. "What does Scott have to do with it?"

"You'll just have to ask him. Now if you'll excuse me, I think we're done here."

Stiles slams his locker door shut, the metal clanging loudly in the thinning traffic of the hallway. He shoulders his bag and starts heading for the door in the direction opposite of the best friend he just hung out to dry. Bringing up the reason behind Victoria's death was undoubtedly harsh of him, but it's about time Allison knew. It's about time Scott owned up to a thing or two, too.

"Stiles, wait," Allison says.

Stiles stops and turns over his shoulder much the same way he did with her relative yesterday. His expression is just as guarded now.

Allison says, "Just be careful. Please."

Stiles pauses, having not expected the remark. He nods and continues on his way.

 

When Stiles gets home, Derek isn't waiting in his room for him. That's strange. He's always there. Even when they were fighting, he was there until Stiles booted him out.

Stiles pulls out his phone and dials Derek's number.

It clicks as it's picked up and Stiles doesn't wait for a greeting before he asks, "Where are you? Did something happen?"

"Oh…you could say that," a voice that is _not_ Derek's says from the other end of the line.

Stiles goes cold. He can't believe what's happening. But the voice persists.

"You still there, Stiles?"

"Where is he?" Stiles demands with steel in his voice.

"The warehouse at Elm and Hurst. Why don't you come join us? It'll be _fun_."

"Fuck you. I'm going to kill you."

"Oh, are you now? I'd _love_ to see that."

" _Shut up, Kate_ ," Stiles growls and hangs up the phone to the sound of her maniacal laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND YOU ALL THOUGHT IT WAS PETER
> 
> BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> http://mommymuffin.tumblr.com/


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